One DayDay One
by EleanorKate
Summary: "Fred? Have you seem Camilla anywhere?" "What? Don't tell me you've only been married 2 hours and have lost her already?"


He saw the back of the Rolls Royce pulling away; recognising it immediately as the one that had housed his now mother in law when, with some surprise and perhaps a degree of trepidation, he had seen it drive up to the Church whilst she was still Miss Browne.

Miss Browne, now Mrs Noakes, however, was nowhere to be seen.

He looked from left to right and out of the corner of his eye he saw her sitting on a bench in the graveyard over the road, almost surrounded by the overhang of the trees slowly shedding their autumn leaves around her.

Passing the Police car that had been lovingly decorated with tin cans and a painted 'Just Married' pillow case; he walked over the road and onto the carpet of orange respectfully picking his way between the stones. He stood in front of her and found her staring at her hands entwined in her bouquet. She barely noticed his presence; lost in her thoughts.

"So has she left?" he asked, realising he ought to be considerate solely because she was his wife's mother. All in all though, it had been drummed into him as a child that you had to earn respect and she had shown him nothing but contempt. He had watched her mother pick her way around the Parish Hall, distain evident on her face, with only the Sisters being truly successful in engaging her in any form of conversation. Peter Noakes had never had a temper on him being generally quite a calm type of chap and for Camilla, and only for her, he would be civil towards this woman who seemed determined to despise him.

She looked up almost surprised to see him there and gave him a small smile.

"She came because she wanted to see whether I would actually go through with the ceremony. She thought I would get to the altar and see the light".

He sat down next to her, unravelling a hand from the flowers that were resting on her lap. Her voice sounded so flat and tired and he could see that her usual jolly attitude had taken a beating. He didn't understand at first why she was so nervous of her mother, but he had learnt that lesson quickly.

"I told her I had already seen the light the moment I met you" she continued. "She didn't like it. It wasn't the correct light".

"I can't say I imagine she did. What else did she say?"

"Just how disappointed she was in me; but why that should be new to me I really have no inclination. I had hoped that my wedding day, of all days, might just be one of those times that she could just paint on a smile or not come at all".

Camilla refrained from telling him the entirety of her mother's barbs, particularly of the 'unfortunate' nature of falling with 'the Policeman's' child. To Camilla his precious son or daughter would be more than a welcome inevitability of being a married woman. She felt like a child again, not a married woman, being scolded for her insolence. It signalled a furious retreat by her mother into her car when her daughter could not find the words to fight. She could not bear telling him that as she knew his feelings towards the prospect of their family in the not too distant future.

She paused and straightened her shoulders, even though he could still hear the sadness in her voice.

"But she has gone. She is going back to Madeira whilst we are in Ramsgate".

"Good", he said, emphatically, now feeling less than reverential to his wife's mother who, it seemed, had not come to her own child's wedding to wish her well but as a witness to see if the walls fell in.

"You are the most precious thing in the world to me, Mrs Noakes and I am not having you upset on our wedding day. Today is the only wedding day we will have and it shouldn't be spoiled".

She nodded, keeping back her tears. "Why are you always so right?"

"Camilla, you might find in the future I can get it very, very wrong, but this is our day, and I cannot bear you crying". He caressed her cheek. "Can I see the smile that I saw when I turned around at the altar?"

She smiled involuntarily at the memory; of being given away by Fred in the conspicuous absence of her Pa as the two of them desperately tried to keep in step with each other and the Bridal March.

"You have so much strength" he carried on. "You just need to realise it".

She leant over and kissed him. "Thank you. If you are here I have all the strength I need".

"I'm glad" he said. "Now my first act as a husband is to tell you stop crying, come back inside, enjoy our celebration and make sure we don't miss that train!"

"Putting your foot down, then?" she responded teasing him, feeling a little brighter. Life seemed so much easier and so much more in perspective when she sat by his side.

"Not in the least", he replied.

"Can I have five minutes?" she asked, not wanting her guests to find any evidence that she had been sitting in the cold crying on this day of all days. He nodded and squeezed her hand before he stood up and walked away.

_I breathed in the autumn air watching him walk up the steps back into the Parish Hall over the road. A leaf fluttered into my lap and I took up the delicate burnt gold into my hand and tucked it into the white ribbon around my flowers. I wasn't going to cry anymore; not today. My darling Peter was right. _

_My wedding day marked more than a simple threshold in my life. It marked a growth to realising, after a childhood of boarding schools and guardians and Mater who kept me at arm's length, that somebody somewhere was able to cherish me for who He intended me to be. _

_Peter was mine and I was his and this was all I needed to stand with my shoulders high and proud, not try to disappear into the shadows as I had spent so much of my childhood trying to do. I stood up to walk back to our party and for the first time in my life I realised that the stares I had been receiving as we walked from the Church to the Parish Hall were ones of love. I was a new bride embarking on her new life, not that girl who was too tall, too big and not worthy of being entrusted with her husband's treasured and precious heart. _

_As I crossed the road I finally realised something else too. I was Mrs Noakes - just and only 'Mrs Noakes'. I no longer had a long-handled name that in the East End of London only ever elicited looks and immediate judgment. I am just plain old 'Mrs Noakes'; the local bobby's wife. _

_To me that was just the most splendid thing._


End file.
